


In the Dark

by itsastanaphon



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsastanaphon/pseuds/itsastanaphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after "Cloaked in Silence" from Metal Gear Solid V: Phantom Pain, Boss and Miller have a moment after Boss brings Quiet back to Mother Base against Miller's wishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark

“I can’t believe he sent those damned choppers after you like that.” Ocelot said quietly, _tsking_ , for what seemed to be the fifth time that evening. He followed Snake closely down the tight metallic corridor. Snake didn’t mind, after all, this was protocol, he was used to it by now. As soon as he got back to Mother Base, Ocelot was on him. Hounding him for info, telling him what he had found out while Boss had been in the field. But they were both moving slowly, footsteps lingering on the metal floor. There was something hanging in the air that they weren’t speaking about. Something they both knew only Boss could handle.

Snake's weaponry on his back was heavier now that he was home, back on Mother Base, back where he could maybe let his guard down. Now that he knew he could remove that mess, put it down somewhere and not worry. His brain wasn’t going to have to be on all the time, always watching, always being on the alert. No, no, now he could calm down some, for a little while anyway. Ocelot knew that Snake was alone in the end with that weight. They had that mysterious telepathy; they always had. Snake sighed through his nose, his eyes closing and opening slowly as his pace slowed to a slight stagger when he reached his quarters. Ocelot stood by, leaning most of his weight onto his right foot, his arms crossed across his chest. His chin directed up defiantly. Snake heard Ocelot's spurs clink onto the metal floor, tapping, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah, I get it…” Snake sighed, grinding his teeth together. His eyes fixed on the door to his quarters. Ocelot slowly put his hands up into the air, as though signaling defeat, before turning to leave and walking back the same way they had both come. The Russian stopped halfway down the hall, just as Snake was pushing open the door to his quarters, his warm hand on the cool metal of the door. Ocelot didn’t turn around, he simply spoke aloud to the hallway in his signature, soft yet firm, voice, “Boss, I’m not telling you how to handle your base or…well, how to handle Miller. It’s just…I think you gotta talk to him.” Snake nodded in unenthusiastic agreement, eyes downcast as he pushed the door to his quarters open. Ocelot heard the door creak and took this as his final sign. He sighed, his eyes scanning his Boss once more, giving him one final assessment before parting ways for the evening. Ocelot quickly turned on his left heel and went charging down the hall the way they had both come. His spurs hitting the metal floor one after the other, clanging their way out of ear shot. 

Snake didn’t know where Ocelot was off to, probably his Intel center, or to spy on someone who desperately needed it. Snake smirked at that thought as he closed the door behind him definitively, it clicked shut faintly and he leaned back against it. He never bothered to turn on a light, despite how dark it was in the room. He could feel how cold the metal was through his suit against his back. He closed his one eye and found himself wishing for a shower. His hair was matted and sticky with his own blood, someone else’s blood, dirt, shit, who knows what else. But he knew he’d have to talk to Miller before he could really let this incident go. Before he could let too much distance get between the situation and the lecture. He took his weaponry off, laying it all down unceremoniously on the couch that he never used. He figured he’d reload them and clean them later when he had more time, maybe have one of the younger recruits do it if he really didn’t feel like doing it before he left again.

He sighed once more, knowing how difficult this was going to be. Miller had openly fought him on this. Sent choppers out to “greet him and their guest”, as Miller had later said, in that cheeky little voice he used when he was mad but didn’t want to outright with it. His teeth had been gritted together as he said it though. Miller’s pouty lips just barely covering his teeth, his eyes were unblinking behind those sunglasses as he spoke. Snake grinned to himself at that moment, thinking back on it, as he ran a hand idly through his beard. Thinking of how to approach this mess, this Miller induced mess. Miller was volatile at the best of times, but _now_? Now, after Snake had brought Quiet back anyway, despite Miller’s adamant protests. Despite Millers almost catastrophic hissy fit over the COM, despite Miller losing it and Ocelot trying to remain in control of the situation. Despite all of that, Snake brought “that woman”, as Miller had put it, back anyway. Now he knew he’d pay the price, somehow, someway. _Fuck_. Miller had even been out there on the landing platform himself, waiting for Snake, waiting to stop him, even though Miller had to have known he couldn't. Snake breathed in deeply, standing up again, rubbing his one eye with his palm. He was so tired, but he knew he had to talk to Miller tonight. It had to be done. He inhaled a sharp breath and turned around, exiting his quarters swiftly. He shut the door behind him with a loud metal _clunking_ sound and he walked off down the narrow corridor.

Snake knew Miller would be there, he had become reclusive these past few weeks since Snake had rescued him from Afghanistan. He wasn’t ashamed of what had happened, no, no, he wouldn’t even wear a prosthetic. He openly refused when Ocelot had offered to have one made. But no, no, he’d rather limp about on his crutch. He’d rather leave the sleeve of that brown trench coat he always wore dangling in whatever breeze could catch it, instead of pinning it up as anyone else would. Snake smiled to himself as he walked down the corridor, being saluted by soldiers as they passed, he simply nodded in awkward recognition, and then continued along his way. He was on a different kind of mission now, one of the hardest ones, as he saw it. He had to get Kazuhira Miller to see his reasons, why he did what he did, and to never train the sights of a sniper on him again. That thought made Snake frown slightly, _how could Miller do that, after everything that had transpired between them?_ Was he that worried about the base? About himself? It didn’t make sense. Snake walked down the corridor and lost himself in his own thoughts. The only way he could see it was that Miller must have just been terrified, that was the only way Snake could see it. Snake’s boots were clomping on the metal floor now as he rounded the corner to Miller’s quarters. He hesitated, standing in front of the door now.

Ocelot had brought Snake up-to-date about Miller shrouding himself in his quarters, since obviously being out voted concerning the acquisition of Quiet. Miller was pouting. Miller wanted to have his way: always. Now he’d been outvoted and the Boss was in charge. So Miller ultimately had no say in the final tallying of the situation. This must have infuriated, cut, and burned him all at once. Snake’s hand hovered above the door handle. The hallway was silent, no boots, no voices, no doors slamming, nothing. Silence. Snake gulped loudly, pulling his hand back, as if having a second thought, but then only to knock briskly and hard with his fist. It sounded more like a demand then a request, he winced, in the five-second hindsight he had before he heard a sharp voice come cutting through the metal door, “What?!”

“Miller,” Snake’s voice was low but he knew Miller heard him, “You got a minute?” Again, silence.

Snake raised an eyebrow, his hand ghosting over the handle once more, his foot nudging against the bottom of it ever so slightly, as if he would just kick it in the door if Miller didn’t get there fast enough. As if he had a right to go in there, regardless of Miller’s wishes, wants, or desires. He stopped himself. Licking his bottom lip, his head bowed, he asked once again, “Come on, Miller. We gotta talk about that….display…today.” Snake’s voice was even keeled, he used no inflection when he spoke normally, but now, with Miller, it was smoother, softer, almost gentle.

He could hear Miller starting to shuffle around, grunting to himself. Snake heard a glass make the trademark _chink_ sound as it hit a tabletop. Some curses in Japanese. Then that heavy tapping of that crutch on the floor, it was getting closer to the door. Snake’s hand fell away from the handle, flopping against his side as he waited for Miller to open the door. But no, just a gentle click on the other side and Miller’s crisp, clean-cut voice announcing, “It’s open.” Snake pushed down on the handle then, it clicked and the door swung back into the room to reveal Miller struggling back to his chair behind the desk. These quarters were not plush in any way, no fancy bed, no nice wooden desk, simply a room with a bed and a plain metal desk, a bookshelf, and a chair that hurt for Miller to sit on for too long. The desk was covered in papers, files, and piles of loose leaf. Some papers were strewn on the floor, as if Miller had thrown them there in a fit of rage. Knowing Miller, that’s probably exactly what happened. Snake shut the door behind him, locking it gently. After all, it had been locked for a reason and judging from the bottle of whiskey on Miller’s desk and the half empty glass cup that had, indeed, been the reason.

“Miller,” Snake started but Miller cut him off with a low laugh, throwing his crutch against the wall with more force then he probably should have. It was out of his reach now and Miller made a _tch_ sound in his throat, fully knowing that it was out of reach. He’d have to ask Snake to get it for him. That burned him too, after all that had happened today, that burned maybe too much. Snake didn’t move, he said nothing. He stood by and watched the mess in front of him.

“So you brought her anyway, good…yeah…fucking _great,_ Boss.” Miller reached for his glass, downing the rest of the contents, the ice cubes clinking together nicely in that warm familiar way that Snake knew all too well. Miller put the cup back down onto the desk. He had a smile on his face, but it was a smile of defeat: a smile of rage. Snake took a step towards the desk, his boots slowly ghosting over the floor, just as they would over Afghanistan sand. Smoothly, silently, but Miller saw it, he knew, he always knew.

“Get away from me with that shit, Boss. You got what you wanted, all right?" Miller gestured vaguely in the direction of the Medical bay, "She’s here, she’s locked up, uselessly, I may add. Ocelot told me how she’s already gotten out several times.” He sighed. 

Miller shook the ice in his glass, tilting it towards the bottle of sake, indicating to Snake he wanted a refill. Snake complied, moving forward to pour the clear liquid into the glass. Miller continued with his verbally biting rant. Snake leaned against the edge of the desk, putting the screw-on-top back on the whiskey bottle. Miller looked up then and realized that he had no recollection of how or when Snake got that close, but there he was…refilling Miller’s glass; just as Miller had intended, _had asked_ , him to do.

“She’s working for Cipher, I’m telling you. No, fuck that, I told _you._ You didn’t seem to care. Neither did Ocelot for that matter.” Miller’s mouth became a straight line. Snake sighed, looking up at the ceiling before speaking.

“Miller, listen, I know you’re upset. But she’s got these super human abilities. Diamond Dogs can utilize that. Isn't that what you want?” Miller said nothing, simply twirling his glass in his hand, Snake continued, “Maybe she wants to defect from Cipher.” Snakes voice was low, trying to be soothing, trying to get Miller to talk to him. Trying to show him all the angles. Miller let his head roll backwards on his shoulders, his eyes closed, his aviators resting on his forehead.

“It doesn’t matter now. We’re all fucked and dead since you brought her here. To our _home_.” The room grew quiet. Snake’s finger tips picking at the edge of Miller’s desk, the metal thrumming on his index finger lightly. Miller didn’t notice. He simply sat up and sipped his drink, the ice in his cup clinking against his teeth as he swallowed the remnants of his drink. Snake was quiet till he started to speak, his voice coming out like a smooth rumble, never disturbing the silence around them.

“I’m not going to pull rank with you, Kaz.” Miller looked up at the usage of his first name, his eyes bleary, his lips pouty and pink, as Big Boss continued, “What you did was put a divide in Diamond Dogs. They know now. They know that we’re not together in this. _On this._ ” Snake gestured with his hand, pointing down to the ground, as if to indicate all of Mother Base before continuing, “We can’t have that. And _you_ know that.” Snake didn’t move. His gaze simply fell on Miller as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He sighed deeply. The bottom of the glass now down flat against the desk. The liquor bottle left untouched for now. Miller reached up and removed his aviators, laying them on the desk next to his glass. He rubbed his eyes, resting his face in his hand. His voice was soft as it came out then, almost in defeat, “I know, Boss. I… _know_ that wasn’t the best move.” Snake nodded silently. He knew he wasn’t going to get an apology, this was all he’d get from Kazuhira Miller. Snake allowed a small smile to cross his face, but it grew larger then normal and he found himself laughing a bit too much at that fact. Miller looked at Snake with sharp, focused eyes.

“What?” Kaz asked crisply, but his own tongue sounded thick in his mouth.

“Nothing, just…don’t worry about it.” Snake stood up, turning to Miller and facing him for the first time during their chat, still chuckling slightly. He took a few steps towards the desk as Miller struggled to sit up in his seat. Leaning this way and that for a brief moment. He finally pulled himself up straight and held himself up on the surface of the desk with his elbow, his only support now. Snake didn’t try to help him, knowing it would only worsen matters. Kazuhira had to do it himself; Snake knew this.

“Tell me.” Kaz said, his voice was tight, his eyes scorching into Snake’s. The darkness of the room didn’t stop either of them from being able to see one another or know where the other was. It was if they knew where each other was with radar by now.

Snake leaned on the desk once more, becoming eye level with Miller: his forearms, both the cold prosthetic and the real, warm, welcoming flesh, making contact with the desk. Their foreheads were almost touching now. Miller hitched his breath, swallowing awkwardly, and drunkenly. Snake was closer now physically then he’d been in a long time. Miller had to fight the urge to reach out and touch Snakes beard, pull on it, like he used to. Instead, he inched forward slightly. Now his nose was just brushing Snakes. Miller bit his lip, he knew he was giving himself away, again. Just like he had all those years ago, but he had missed this, he didn’t care if he was transparent. 

“Snake...” Miller whispered. He knew his breath smelled of whiskey, he knew his eyes were betraying him now. Snake grinned at Kaz, his fingertips just barely grazing under Miller’s chin, feeling that soft scruffy fuzz there. 

“John…” Snake chuckled, “…after all this time, I would have thought you’d remember that, Kaz.” John’s mouth curled into that signature smile. Kaz laughed awkwardly, lightly, biting his bottom lip again. Maybe it was the alcohol, but this felt right again, complete again, just as he got pulled into an affectionate kiss. John’s rough fingers making their way up the other mans cheeks, holding him there, in the darkness of Kazuhira Miller’s quarters.

No, John would never pull rank with Kaz. Not ever.

 


End file.
